


Spuffy LoVe:  Bad Boys and the Blondes Who Love Them

by Soulburnt



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV), Veronica Mars (TV)
Genre: Confessions, F/M, Strangers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:08:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26964211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soulburnt/pseuds/Soulburnt
Summary: By chance, a lonely, post-comics Buffy Summers meets a grieving, post-series Veronica Mars.  WARNING:  Spoilers through the end of season 12 of Buffy and the end of season 4 of Veronica Mars.
Relationships: Logan Echolls/Veronica Mars, Spike/Buffy Summers
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	Spuffy LoVe:  Bad Boys and the Blondes Who Love Them

Near Half Moon Bay, on the Pacific Coastal Highway

Veronica Mars

My wedding dress is being held as evidence in the case against the serial bomber who killed my husband. 

Not just any bride can say that.

It was the phone call from Leo that made me leave, put me in the rental car the insurance company provided to replace my bombed-out car and on the road out of Neptune. I didn’t answer the phone. I’m not talking to anyone right now. 

Leo left a message, not sure what to say, other than that he didn’t even know I was engaged and that he was so sorry.

I kissed him a few weeks ago and might have slept with him if we weren’t interrupted. I wonder how he would feel if he knew a sex dream about him made me realize that I needed Logan in my life, even if I had to marry him?

Like marriage to Logan would have been a price to pay, something I had to put up with.

I’m not talking to anyone right now. I have so much to say, but only to Logan. And now I can’t.

Oh, I’ve talked. To the police, to the military investigators, to Wallace, even a little to my dad. But I can’t talk to anyone, not now that he’s gone.

I had to get away from Neptune, away from the reporters stalking me, away from Dick’s confusion and red-rimmed eyes. I know I have to go back, because my dad needs me. But he keeps waiting for me to talk.

To break.

Logan wanted me to get therapy, too, and now I wish I’d listened to him, because I’d have someone to talk with. Someone I don’t have to push away. 

I could just stop going to appointments instead of fleeing town.

I feel like I’m dying inside.

Everything inside of me is death, and if I could just spit some of it out, I’d feel better.

But Logan’s the only one who got to hear my infrequent words for the past five years, who really knew, the only one I let in.

This loaner car is newer than the one… newer than the one I had. Nicer. It does the math, tells me I can get to San Francisco before I have to get gas. I’ll stop there for the night. Maybe I’ll turn south and go back home. Maybe I’ll go all the way to the end of PCH, keep going on the 101.

I feel like there’s nothing behind me and nothing ahead of me.

And even if I know that’s not true, right now it just feels like it.

***

San Francisco

Buffy Summers

***

“Excuse me,” Buffy began, once she had the bartender’s attention, “could you tell me where –”

“Over there,” the woman said, nodding toward the tables facing the Bay. At Buffy’s confused look, she elaborated. “Your sister, she’s over there.”

“Oh. Thanks.” Buffy had ducked into the bar because she needed a bathroom. Dawn was here? Why would Dawn be here? The Slayer picked the touristy section to start patrol specifically because she had little chance of running into anyone she knew. Giving the bartender a politely befuddled nod, she turned toward the tables. 

It wasn’t quite dark, so the bar wasn’t packed. Buffy didn’t see Dawn, but there was a small blond woman sitting alone. Relieved it wasn’t really her sister, she moved in a semi-circle so she could see the woman’s face. The similarities between them went beyond hair color.

We’re very pretty. The woman wasn’t as close of a match as the Buffybot, but she could see why the barkeep assumed they were related. The stranger’s features were more regular and classically pretty; Buffy’s bone structure was more delicate. Her blue eyes weren’t as large and wideset as Buffy’s green ones. 

Even though the color wasn’t the same, the loss in the woman’s eyes struck Buffy. She’d seen that haunted devastation in the mirror for a long time after her mother died.

And after her resurrection. 

And after the Sunnydale collapse.

And after Twilight.

Too often, basically.

The stranger looked lost in the view, her fingers playing with the straw in her drink. Unlike most people that deep in thought, she was still aware of her surroundings, glancing toward Buffy as if appraising a threat.

“Sorry,” Buffy said, giving a small smile. “The bartender said my sister was here.”

The stranger didn’t bother with a smile. “I can see where there could be a family resemblance. Only child, though. Sorry.”

Buffy widened her smile and shrugged. “Just as well you aren’t my sister. Say, do you know where the restroom is in here?” The other blond pointed off to the right, and Buffy turned to see the criminally discrete sign. “Thanks.”

The stranger caught a glimpse of the badge at her waist. “SFPD?”

Buffy sent a longing glance toward the corridor to the bathrooms. “Sort of. Consultant, but going through the academy.”

“My dad used to be a cop.”

She nodded as she began edging away. “Cool. Well…” 

Two minutes later, feeling much more comfortable, Buffy dried her hands as she left the restroom. As she came out, the woman’s blond hair caught her attention again. A beefy man was looming over her, and his attention clearly wasn’t wanted.

“No, actually,” the woman said with a smile that didn’t come anywhere near her eyes, “I don’t want company.” She turned her attention back to the window, but from her vantage point, Buffy could see her hand slide inside her purse.

The Slayer was at the table in a second. “Hey,” she beamed up at the guy on the make, “let’s leave the customers alone.” Buffy flashed her badge.

The guy, far too drunk for this early in the evening, looked between the two of them. Buffy got ready to clamp her hand on his wrist and take him to a kneeling position. After a moment’s struggle, he couldn’t come up with anything sufficiently clever. “Women,” he muttered balefully as he turned away.

The two blonds watched him weave his way back to the bar. The stranger nodded at the position of Buffy’s hand. “Wrist lock?”

She smiled her appreciation. “Yeah. What did you have ready?”

“Taser.”

The weapon was legal in California. “Not a bad idea, when you look like us.”

“You said it, ‘sister.’ Thanks, though. You’re better backup than Backup.”

That made no sense to Buffy, so she ignored it. “Hi. I’m Buffy, and being a petite blond sucks.” She held out her hand.

“‘Though she be but little, she is fierce.’ Veronica,” she replied, taking Buffy’s hand for a quick shake.

Buffy’s face lit at the Shakespeare quote. “My boyfriend used to –” Except Spike didn’t say anything to her anymore. Not anything of substance. No lines from literature or poetry. Barely anything about the weather.

“My dad,” Veronica named the literate person in her life. “Can I buy you a drink? For sparing me from having to deal with a handsy drunk guy?”

She started to decline. Buffy wasn’t a friendly person in general; she had a small group of people she trusted and no inclination to expand that circle. She’d been avoiding them and their questions, even. But something in Veronica’s eyes spoke to her. “Sure.” She slid into the other chair at the small table.

“Seems like we have a lot in common,” Veronica said, putting on a winning smile. “Secretly formidable shorties.”

“California native?” When the other woman nodded, she tried a different question. “College dropout?”

She made a self-deprecatory face, not mentioning Stanford and Columbia. “Nope. Sorry. Made it through.”

“No, good for you.” Conversation lagged, so the Slayer nodded toward the window. “Nice view.”

“Yeah.” Veronica’s mouth twisted. “I can’t get away from the California coastline.” When Buffy raised her eyebrows, she added, “I’m from Neptune.”

Now Buffy raised her mental eyebrows at the mention of the ritzy town. Before she could say anything, the other woman saw the server and called him over. They put in their orders, and Veronica went on. “Neptune, but not the glamorous side.”

“I figured. You said your dad was a cop.” 

Veronica shrugged. “Sherriff, actually. I didn’t really notice there were sides until he lost the election. I was in high school then.” She seemed to struggle for words. “A lot of things changed after that, for a lot of reasons, but… I got a rude awakening. All the rich kids I’d been friends with disappeared.”

Thinking of how her Hemery High friends abandoned her as soon as she was Chosen, Buffy nodded ruefully. “After, uh, my parents’ divorce, the same kind of thing happened to me. I might have lost the cheerleaders and jocks, but I found better friends.”

“My parents divorced when I was in high school, too, and I found better friends. The quirky girl with the hacker skilz, the funny, sweet guy everyone overlooked…”

She blinked. That described Willow and Xander. Weird. This woman looked like her, sure, but the new similarities were kind of freaky. “Yeah, the ‘losers’ make way better friends.” Buffy played with the edge of the cocktail napkin in front of her and changed the subject to something neutral. “I know what you mean about never leaving the coastline. I was born in L.A. and lived in Sunnydale until…”

Her eyes widened in understanding. “Oh, wow. I’m sorry.”

Of course she knew what happened; everyone knew about the faultline/sinkhole/karst collapse that swallowed a whole town. Not even Sunnydale Denial Syndrome could avoid that publicity. For the Slayer, the event boiled down to a single, personal moment. Even after all these years, something inside Buffy constricted at the memories of the last day, of that memory. No you don’t, but thanks for saying it. “Yeah. It was rough.”

“I’d never been there, but my husb–” The word choked off as thoroughly as if her neck was encircled by the tentacle of a Sefuer demon.

“Hey,” Buffy said, reaching out to cover Veronica’s thin fingers. Ah. That was the reason for the devastation lurking in her eyes. She admired the way the other blond got her mask back in place almost instantly. And inside, she felt a little stir of pride in herself for offering comfort, for doing the kind thing.

“He…” Veronica gritted her teeth, struggling with her emotions. “The bombings in Neptune… Logan died in the last one.”

“Oh, God.” Buffy patted her hand, resenting that her attempt to do the kind thing just got complicated. She didn’t want to deal with someone else’s trauma. That had been just a few weeks ago, as best she remembered. Then she looked at the other woman’s face and felt guilty. “I… have no idea what to say. I’m so sorry. That sucks.”

Veronica gave a little huff of a laugh. “Yeah. Frakkin’ sucks.” 

“Is it just you…?”

“No kids. Uncle Logan and Auntie Veronica to Noah, my best friend’s son. We do have a dog.”

“That’s me with Joyce, my niece. Best way to ‘have’ kids.” Her voice softened. “Were you together for long?”

She looked out the window. “Yeah, but we just got married,” she said, her voice soft with unshed tears.

“Oh, God. That’s terrible.” Buffy forced herself not to look for the waiter, really wanting the drink now so she could escape. Not that she had anywhere to be, particularly, not until it was dark enough for patrol to be productive. Consoling people just wasn’t her forte. She never knew what to say and felt awkward.

The other blond woman firmed her chin and tamped down the emotion. “Still trying to wrap my brain around it.”

“I bet he was a great guy.”

“Yeah.” Her lip quivered, so she took a sip of her drink. “And I gave him hell because of it.”

“Uh…” Buffy really had no idea what to say. That bald statement came with a flash of familiarity that made her uneasy. She squeezed the other woman’s fingers and let go.

“Logan was just…” Veronica gave her nearly empty glass a watery smile. “He was an asshole.” She sniffled.

“Oookay…”

“I knew him since high school, and he really was. An asshole, I mean. Horrible, violent, mean, especially to me…” She sniffled. Buffy wondered how many drinks she’d had. Maybe Veronica couldn’t handle her liquor very well, either. “And… amazing.” She bit her lip. “No one ever loved the way Logan did.”

Buffy froze. Veronica was wrong: no one ever loved the way Spike did. That kind of love was the bleached blond’s exclusive property, something epic, something beyond human. No one else should be described with Spike’s defining trait. 

Letting her Slayer senses feel the environment, she checked for any traces of demonic presence or magic. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Still, a woman who looked like her and also lost a guy like Spike? How weird was that? Coincidences never just happened in her world.

She realized that the newly widowed woman was giving her an odd look, so she glanced away. “Yeah, I had a boyfriend like that, too.” And dumped him.

Oh, he let her tell everyone that it was mutual, but it wasn’t. Buffy was antsy because there was a lull in crises and apocalypses; Spike was so calm and nice with his soul that she just wanted to hit him sometimes. So, obviously, it had to end.

“The one that got away, huh?”

“Uh…” That phrase attached to Spike startled her. It wasn’t as if she could lose him. Was it? “Not really.”

“Well, sorry then, but he wasn’t anything like Logan. I mean, he asked if he was holding me back, keeping me in Neptune, keeping me from being happy. And he would have let me go, he loved me that much. He was my One.”

You’re the one, Buffy.

I don’t want to be the one.

“Here you go,” the waiter said, sparing her from forming a reply. He set their drinks on the table, and Buffy grabbed her Mai Tai with real gratitude. 

Just a woman who’d lost someone she loved, that’s all. She did like the feeling of being the one offering comfort, though. It reminded her of who she was when she was younger and less broken. The new widow obviously needed to talk. All she had to do was say sympathetic things and finish her drink. Ten minutes, tops. She could handle this. After all, she’d been a high school counselor for a while on the Hellmouth. “So, how did he go from asshole to amazing?”

Veronica finished her drink and pulled the fresh one into her hand. “He worked. He worked really, really hard to be a better person. And I… I made fun of him.

“We were both kinda screwed up – you try living in a corrupt place like Neptune and growing into a well-adjusted adult – but I… I didn’t want him to change, because if he did, where did that leave me? I didn’t want to face all of my… all of it. Not that I like everything about myself, but… change is hard.” Veronica made a face at that word. “Being hard is easier than change.” She gritted her teeth again. “He tried to be better, and I made fun of him.”

Buffy got a sinking feeling and again checked to make sure nothing supernatural buzzed her senses. This was too spot-on. She cleared her throat, though, and tried. Maybe this was a test from the Powers That Be? “Hey, he married you. He knew you loved him.”

“Did he? Because I turned him down when he first proposed.” Veronica knocked back a good third of her drink. “We were together, on and off through high school, then for the last five years. He was it for me; I knew that. But I turned him down.” 

Buffy thought Veronica was probably about her age. She’d known Spike for that long. And Angel, too, but Angel really was over her now.

Spike wasn’t. He probably never would be.

Shifting uncomfortably, she took another sip of the Mai Tai. Enough of kind, comforting Buffy. The sooner she finished it, the sooner she could leave.

“I never knew what Lilly saw in him,” Veronica said, looking at the table now, lost in memory. “She was my best friend, and she dated him first. She brought out the best in him. Or maybe loving her brought out the best in him. When she died, he was so angry, so lost. He was already the classic 09er, just a complete ass,” she said, smiling fondly, “but he got so dark after the murder.”

Murder? Buffy leaned away a little.

“Lilly was…” Veronica made a cute face as she searched for the right word, and Buffy wondered if it was similar to one of her expressions that Spike liked so much. “Lilly was complex. I loved her, and you aren’t supposed to speak ill of the dead, but… She wasn’t who Logan thought she was. She cheated on him, and it just devastated him.” The tears came back. “He loved her more than she loved him. He always loved more than he got in return. Even from me.”

“Hey, hey,” Buffy soothed, even as she shivered. She leaned closer, though, drawn in by the parallels.

“Then he lost his mother, and he was just… shattered. I got to know him after that, really know him, saw the way he was abused at home…” She shook her head, compressing her lips, deciding to keep her late husband’s secrets. “He let me in, God knows why, let me see the sweetness and longing inside.” Veronica bit her lip. “The first time we kissed, he’d just beat up an undercover ATF agent to save me. It was the hottest thing I’d ever seen.”

First murder, now beating up federal agents? Vampires and demons, sure, but this was just strange. But she got it; watching Spike fight had always been a turn-on for her, too.

Veronica saw Buffy’s frown. “My dad went from cop to PI – private investigator – and it’s kind of the family business.” She shrugged. “Logan and I both wanted to know who killed Lilly, so we got close working the case.” Her voice was sad. “No one else saw how good he was back then, just me. And I liked that, you know? No one even knew we were dating for a while.”

Buffy closed her eyes at the memory of her own dirty little secret. “That kind of relationship is… rough.”

Veronica nodded absently. “It was. My dad didn’t like him. My friends didn’t like him. His friends really didn’t like me.” She shrugged. “But we just… fit, you know? Our chemistry…” She raised her hand high above the table. “Off the charts.” Her mouth curved in a private smile. “He wasn’t even my type, not really. Surfer-lean instead of beefy, but he always did have this amazing body. And these funny little ears that kind of stuck out at the tips…” Her eyes shifted away from her companion as she lost herself in some fun memory.

“Sounds yummy.” Buffy’s mouth had gone dry, so she took another sip. This had to be a setup of some kind. What was she going to confide next, that losing her virginity was a disaster and a matter for public debate?

“He was yummy.” Veronica firmed her chin. “We both had… I don’t know, childhoods that looked fine on the surface, but were rotten underneath. His dad, my mother… I always blamed the town. Neptune was awful. God, even my first time was messed up because of that place. And it’s still awful. I thought I could make a difference there, but now…”

Well, shit.

Sunnydale had been awful, too, and to this day Buffy resented that her first time was tainted and that everyone knew how rotten losing her virginity had been. She had an urge to lean across the table and demand to know who sent the petite blond, but Veronica had that look in her eyes again.

Loss. 

And lost.

Buffy gave herself a mental slap for the paranoia. Who had a good story about their first time, anyway? And lots of guys had ears with tips that stuck out. Neptune sounded like it corrupted humans the same way Sunnydale amped up the demons. Sure, I made a difference there, but it killed me, sometimes literally. So I killed it. “Yeah. My town was like that. Cute seaside destination by day, Hellmouth by night.”

Veronica nodded in absent agreement, not bothered by the unfamiliar but evocative word. “All I ever wanted was to escape, to be… I don’t know. Better than what I grew up knowing? Normal? Whatever that is.”

Buffy physically looked around. Surely someone was punking her. She always thought her life was a series of train wrecks because of her calling, that her sacred duty kept her from ‘normal.’ These things could happen to someone who was just human?

“You ready for another one?” The widow frowned, thinking her companion was checking the server’s location. The police officer’s glass was still half-full.

“Oh, no. Not for me.” Buffy plastered a smile on her face and made herself focus. If this was a supernatural test of some kind, she was going to pass. See Buffy be kind; see Buffy console. She cleared her throat. “So, you wanted normal?”

Veronica nodded. “Which meant someone who wasn’t Logan. Someone boring. I tried, I really did. But the moment he came back into my life, the pull to him… It was just magnetic. I skipped out on meeting normal’s parents. And Logan had let me go, didn’t even plan to see me again. All noble, the idiot. He thought he was bad for me, when really, he was the one who saved me.

“He’d changed. So much. Not that anyone who knew him in high school really wanted that. It was like the fact that he changed was an insult, or threatened them somehow.” She shook her head. “But the guy only I got to see… He was coming to the surface. He did it without me, you know? Without my help. When I wasn’t in his life. Sometimes I think I was bad for him.” 

It wasn’t physical, but Buffy felt the gut punch. Because she had been bad for Spike; knowing her had destroyed everything about the strong, proud, confident master vampire who originally came to Sunnydale. He’d remade himself from the ashes, sometimes literally, into a man who would never fault her, but who had been quietly withdrawing from her life.

Because she wanted that distance.

Veronica met Buffy’s eyes after the long silence, pride obvious in her expression. “He became an officer in the Navy. A pilot. Decorated.”

None of the stranger’s emotions was fake. Maybe everyone had a lost love like this, someone who’d changed afterwards, became better. Maybe this wasn’t about her and really was just a chance encounter rife with coincidence.

Buffy raised her glass in salute to Logan, not saying the words that would trump the dead man’s accomplishments. Her undead boyfriend saved the world multiple times. He was the only vampire to earn a soul.

Wait… She really was proud of Spike. For all that, and for who he’d become. Did he know that? Did he believe her, all the sweet things she’d said to him when they were together, or did casually dumping him negate all of them?

“But the Logan I wanted? That great guy wasn’t really him. I wanted the one who roughed up my boyfriend because he thought Piz posted a sex tape of us.”

Piz?

“Then Logan apologized to Piz, found the guy who did post it, beat him up, and dragged him in front of me to make him apologize to me. He was connected, like mob-connected, and Logan knew he’d never be brought to justice… So he brought his own.” Veronica’s eyes sparked at the primal memory. It faded quickly.

What I want is the Spike who’s dangerous. She’d said that to him in front of everyone, after he destroyed himself to atone for hurting her. 

“The way Logan changed… It threatened me, just like it threatened the people we grew up with.” The admission apparently required alcohol. When she set down her glass, she sighed. “I’m a bitch. No, really. Cute little blond, right? But I made fun of him for trying to be better, goaded him to be more like the old Logan, said all these terrible things…” Veronica shook her head. “I mean, something had to be wrong with him if he loved me, right?”

If the other woman used her taser, Buffy couldn’t have been more stunned. “There’s nothing wrong with you,” she whispered.

“I didn’t want to go get better, go to therapy, face all the bad history. I think… Deep down, I know I didn’t deserve him.” Veronica turned away, then tossed back the last of her drink. “Apparently, the universe agreed.”

She dug in her purse for money to cover the bill. “All those years I wasted, time with other guys, all the awful things I said to him…” Veronica stopped moving, just sat there with the bills in her hand for a moment. “I’ll never find anyone like him. Someone who knows me. I was too afraid to really love him, and now I’d give anything…”

All the years she spent mooning after Angel. All the terrible things she spat at Spike, trying to push him into leaving like they all did. All the important things about love and forgiveness that she never said. All the times she hit him because she could. All the months she knew he was back and did nothing, because he was supposed to be the one who chased after her. All the crap she put him through, up to this latest dodge.

A mutual breakup. Right.

Veronica visibly steeled herself, locking down her emotions. “Thanks for listening.” She hesitated for a long moment before confessing, honest and bare, “I just miss him. And no one else really knew him, knew who he was. Like, even on our wedding day, they thought he’d left me.”

Buffy forced a smile and took a last sip of her drink. “Hey, no problem. And he knew. I promise he knew.” If this Logan was anything at all like Spike, he knew.

When the other woman swayed when she stood up, Buffy rose, too. “Can I get a Lyft or a taxi for you?”

She shook her head. “No, I’m walking. I’m just at the hotel next door.” Veronica looked toward the exit. “After the funeral and… everything, I just had to get out of Neptune. I started driving north, and here I am.” She really looked at Buffy once again. “I saw the Sunnydale tribute off PCH as I drove past. Logan went on a surf trip up the coast once. He said Sunnydale was a weird little town.”

“It was.” Buffy had seen the tribute, too, the pile of faded plastic flowers and sun-bleached testimonials. She never left anything there herself, because she’d left everything already.

Veronica sighed. “I should get back, call my dad. He’s watching our dog, and he’s on a cane… I’ve been kind of shitty to him, too.” She squinted, another adorable expression that Buffy hoped was in her own repertoire. “I’m so sorry. I forgot your name.”

“Buffy Summers.” She squashed the impulse to offer her hand again, just enjoyed the novelty of being taller than someone.

“Veronica Mars –” Her words again choked off. “He talked about taking my last name.”

Impulse had Buffy reaching out to squeeze Veronica’s shoulder. “You’ll find peace. Time really helps. When my mom died...” She didn’t finish, just pressed her lips together and kept everything inside.

“Thanks.” The widow gestured between them. “Strangers on a train kind of thing. Talking… Thanks.” She gave Buffy a real smile. “If I can’t talk to my ‘sister,’ who can I talk to?”

“That’s what sisters are for.” She smiled back, two genuine, knockout California girls. Buffy’s expression faded into something serious. “Are you going to be…? Are you all right?”

Veronica raised her chin. “I will be. I’m pretty tough.”

Buffy nodded and made herself busy adding a tip of her own to the cash left on the table. She surreptitiously followed Veronica from the bar to make sure she got to the hotel safely, checking around for the handsy drunk guy. 

Through the revolving doors, she saw Veronica step inside the elevator. For a moment, the box framed her, then the doors slid shut, erasing her. Another small blond woman who’d been through far too much.

It was dark enough for patrol now, but Buffy walked on the sidewalks without really looking around. Her thoughts were on the widowed woman’s story, on the crazy parallels to her own life. Sure, Veronica’s troubles revolved around a corrupt town instead of a Hellmouth, but… Buffy still wasn’t sure their chance meeting hadn’t been some kind of cosmic test.

Which she’d probably failed.

She stopped on a hill, banking on a strong cell signal, and used her phone to do a quick search for private investigators in Neptune, California. Mars Investigations came up second in the handful of results. No pictures, but that made sense for a job that involved undercover work.

Buffy had a sudden desire to run back to Veronica’s hotel, to exchange digits or do something to keep in touch with a woman who had gone through a human version of her own trials. It faded immediately, and she kept walking away. 

Probably the only reason the widow said all that was because Buffy was a stranger. If it was she who’d confessed, who’d been vulnerable and shown that much of herself, she wouldn’t want to ever see Veronica again.

She didn’t even want Spike to know her flaws and fears, but he saw her anyway.

Something had to be wrong with him if he loved me.

That was her whole history with Spike, wasn’t it? First, she’d protested that demons couldn’t love. Then she worried that something had to be fundamentally wrong with her if a demon loved her. Now she wondered if he still loved her, because he hadn’t pushed, hadn’t been in touch.

He’d let me go, didn’t even plan to see me again.

No matter what they said about being at their best around each other, years of rejection had to take their toll. Maybe it wasn’t because of Spike’s soul. Maybe he just didn’t love her the same way anymore. Or maybe he just loved her enough to let her go.

He always loved more than he got in return.

Humans weren’t the model for how to deal with rejection; Buffy always had a hard time remembering that. Xander broke Anya’s heart, and he didn’t understand for a long time how wrong he’d been to leave her at the altar. And Anya went back to being a demon. Yet Veronica’s Logan stayed even when she turned down his marriage proposal. People reacted different ways.

But it wasn’t just her rebuffs that caused Spike to keep his distance for so long. He was busy becoming a better person when she wasn’t around, learning who he was, fighting the good fight for his own reasons. His world didn’t revolve around her anymore.

Like Veronica, she kind of resented that. Sure, Spike finally rejoined her, but it was different. Other people knew that Spike was amazing now, not just her.

She ended the best relationship of her life because… Why, again?

I was too afraid to really love him, and now I’d give anything…

Veronica’s words kept coming back to her, all the parallels in their stories, but the look in her eyes was what really haunted Buffy. Veronica had blue eyes, and she’d seen the same look in blue eyes before.

Regret.

Longing.

Love.

The way Spike used to look at her.

Now, he gave her the same plastic smile she used to use back in Sunnydale, after her resurrection.

He was pulling away, giving her the space she needed. Or said she needed.

Giving her up.

Giving up.

She stopped midway down a hill.

Veronica’s Logan died in a bomb blast. Buffy was vaguely aware of the spate of bombings on the other end of California from the news and daily roll call briefings at the precinct. She hadn’t paid much attention to the event that ended Veronica’s happiness. Just a sudden tragedy. 

Someone else’s tragedy.

The world hadn’t paid much attention when Spike died to save it, either. 

He stayed away after he came back, trying to figure out who he was, the prickly remnants of William the Bloody with an earned soul. 

Or he stayed away because he didn’t believe she meant what she said that last moment on the Hellmouth.

Or what she said now, when she wouldn’t work to be with him.

She remembered something he’d said to her toward the end, that he didn’t want her to be with him because he loved her, that he wanted her to be with him because she loved him.

He’d changed so much, he couldn’t change back to what he was when they first got together. His love was real, not an obsession. It never had been, but he hadn’t had a handle on what was good for her. Or for him.

He worked really, really hard to be a better person… I just miss him.

Veronica’s One was dead. Hers wasn’t.

Buffy’s fingers trembled as she took out her phone and called Spike’s number. 

***

San Francisco

Veronica Mars

“Hey, Dad. How’s Pony?” Veronica could hear the strains of Thelonious Monk’s ‘’Round Midnight’ over the connection.

“Running back and forth, wearing me out,” Keith replied dryly.

“Passed out and slobbering on your sofa then.” She put her phone on speaker and laid it on the nightstand, listening to the music for a few seconds. “Kind of early for that song.”

“The older I get, the earlier my late nights get. Where’d you stop tonight?”

“Saint Frank.”

“Long drive.”

“I know. I… I just couldn’t stay. But I’ll be heading back tomorrow.”

“Good. Veronica…”

“I ran into someone who could be my twin,” she said quickly.

“Oh? They say everyone has a double.”

“She’s in law enforcement, even.” She drew in a breath. “I talked to her about what happened.”

Keith was silent for a moment. “I’m glad.”

“All for the price of a couple of drinks.”

“Your sister works cheap.” Somehow, she could hear him frown. “That’s a terrible thing to say about my nonexistent daughter.”

“It helped. The talking.” Her father waited her out. “I think I might talk to Logan’s therapist, too.”

“When you’re ready, I think that’s a fine idea.” 

“Yeah. Eventually.” 

“I know it isn’t easy for you to open up.”

“No. It really isn’t.”

He changed the subject. “Are you in for the night?” One of the things she loved best about her father was how he knew when to give her a pass.

“No more drinking at bars and picking up short blond chicks.”

“Moving onto brunettes?”

“That’s your type, not mine. I just mean, I’m back at the hotel.”

“Security protocol?”

Veronica almost smiled. “Third floor, away from the elevators, doorstop in place.”

“That’s my girl.”

“See you soon.”

“Call me before you leave. And don’t forget your heart. San Francisco’s notorious for it.”

“No chance of that.”

Keith winced at the reminder of where her broken heart lay. “I love you, Veronica. You’re gonna be all right, you know.”

“Thanks. I love you, too.”

***

San Francisco

Buffy Summers

“Hey, pet,” Spike said, coming out of the shadows. “What’s the sitch?”

Buffy felt her heartrate pick up and knew he’d hear it. “No sitch.” And now that she noticed it, she loved how he’d adopted her words. “Thanks for coming out.” She couldn’t keep still, not as nervous as she was.

“’Course I did. You asked.” His reply and simple shrug said it all, really.

He found her on Fell Street, a long way from the bar where she met Veronica. Spike slid into place on her left, and they began to walk west, toward the botanical garden. Buffy took her time finding words, but she immediately found his fingers with hers. She felt the weight of his gaze on her for a moment, but he stayed silent. This was exactly the kind of consideration that unnerved her, because early Spike had always been too impatient to wait for anything, even her.

She stopped, no particular point, midway along a block, and turned to him, finding his other hand. “I love you. You know that, don’t you?”

“Know you do, love.”

But she caught the tiny hesitation.

“And I like you, too, Spike. I like who you are now. And I’m proud of you, because you’re… because you’re amazing. Who you were, what you were, to who you are now… You’re really incredible.”

“Big me up, all these compliments,” he said after a moment of speechless bewilderment.

That wasn’t actually an intentional innuendo. “You’re… healthy.”

Spike raised a brow. “Vampire. Hard to –”

“No, I mean… You, your soul, your demon, they’re in balance…” Buffy looked down, gritting her teeth in frustration. “This isn’t coming out right.” She sighed and met his eyes again, trying to express herself once again. “You became a better person, Spike. I’m proud of you.”

He tilted his head and tried for humor. “Am I dyin’ or something?”

Buffy went still for a moment, looking stricken, before throwing herself against him, her arms around his neck. His arms wrapped around her just the way they were supposed to. “Not allowed. You’re my One, Spike,” she said, muffled against his black t-shirt, “and I don’t want us to be apart anymore.”

It was his turn to grow still. “What brought this on, love?”

Buffy made herself look up. “I met my human doppelganger today. Only her One was human, too, and he died.” Tears pooled in her eyes, making the green stand out even in the dim light. “I just feel like I’ve wasted so much time, being apart from you.”

“Buffy…”

Dread bloomed inside her. “If that’s what you still want,” she whispered.

“Always want you, Slayer. Always love you.” His expression was serious. “Doesn’t keep me from wanting what’s best for me, as well as you. Not sure why you want to get back together when nothing’s changed.”

“I’m sorry for –”

“Buffy, don’t apologize. Just hear me out.” He still waited to see if she was going to say anything before continuing. “Our lives… We get enough danger and violence outside of our relationship. Always meant to be the one who never hurt you.” Spike searched her upraised face. “That’s the man I’ve been trying to be. An’ I loved the life we built the last couple of years. I don’t know if you did. I’m all out of self-delusion these days. Need to know if a semi-reformed vampire with a slightly worse-for-wear soul is gonna do it for you.” Spike didn’t loosen his hold on her, just waited as Buffy dropped her head against his chest. Gave her time.

“You totally do it for me,” she said, pulling away from him so she could take his hands again. “If a police cadet and semi-retired Slayer with a ton of issues does it for you, I say we go for it.”

“For real?”

“For always.” Buffy started to say more, but he cut her off with a kiss. She pulled away. “Spike? Is it wrong – No, I know it’s wrong.” Her voice dropped to a whisper again. “But sometimes I want the Spike I first fell in love with.” She looked down in shame.

“He hurt you.” Spike’s words were immediate.

“And I hurt him. I know it’s wrong, I don’t even know why, what’s wrong with –”

He stilled her frantic little movements with firm hands on her shoulders. “Buffy.” Whatever Spike started to say died, so he started again. “Love, the person I fell I in love with was you. And I know the reason you came to care for me –”

“Not just care. Love.” She remembered being in his mind, the amazing way he saw her, better and more beautiful than she really was. Life goal Buffy instead of real life Buffy.

Spike didn’t repeat the word ‘love,’ just went on. “You saw the tiny streak of goodness still in me, despite all the tarnish of the years. The bit that cared for your mum and your sis. Otherwise, you would have dusted me when I started lurking outside your house.”

“Even back then, there was a lot to love about you.”

He snorted. “That thin thread, maybe.” Spike shook his head; this was old territory. “But who I am now… This is me. Don’t think I’ll change much anymore, old vamp that I am. Do you love this Spike?”

“I do.” No hesitation. “Do you still love a Buffy who turns thirty and freaks out because she never envisioned the kind of incredible that’s in her life?”

He cocked his head to one side, parsing this as his hands slid from her shoulders down her arms. “You sayin’ all this has been a midlife crisis, Slayer?”

“Spiiiike… Be serious.”

“’Course I love this version of you. Love every version of you, Buffy.” His gaze roamed over her features, familiar and dear and always new to him.

She moved nearer, so that he could fold her in his embrace. “I love you, Spike, then and now.” Buffy hid her face. “But I miss seeing all of you. Maybe this version ought to knock me out and chain me up to make me listen, too.” She felt his response, sudden and hard against her stomach, and she peeped up at him.

“Buffy…” His expression was doubtful and his eyes shadowed. Then he let out a breath, let go of old pain. “Still remember our safe word?” And his voice was suddenly silk over gravel.

She gave him a tight hug that made his ribs creak, her face pressed into his shoulder. “Yeah. Boojum.” All the other Lewis Carroll words they tried when drunkenly searching for a safe word sounded too filthy and left them helpless with giggles. Fritter my wig? Bandersnatch? Come on. 

She’d never once used it, or wanted to.

“I remember.” Buffy’s voice was hoarse, remembering the chill of stone against her bare skin in his crypt. If she looked up, if he had arched that eyebrow, they’d be picked up for public indecency on Fell Street. She’d get kicked out of the academy, and Faith would make fun of her. So, she kept her hot cheek against his collar.

But temptation came in the rumble of his voice, too. “Got any handcuffs hidden on your delectable person, Officer Summers?”

She pressed closer to him, pushing against the familiar hardness she’d missed so much, knowing he could smell her arousal. Now that she knew he was willing to unleash control at her request, Buffy felt unaccountably shy. “No,” she admitted with a mix of regret and relief.

After a long minute of simply holding onto each other, Spike sighed and stirred. “More patrol, then?”

“Not yet. I need to tell you what I realized. Why I’m serious about us.” 

Her heartrate picked up, but she didn’t look up at him. Spike held her with vampire strength, knowing she was bracing herself, wanting to help. “Tell me, love.”

“Because I love what we do, how we are. Because I trust you, and nothing is going to make me stop loving you.” The words were out there now, and they terrified her: unconditional love, unconditional trust. What he’d always offered her, and look how he got hurt for it.

But she learned a lot today.

Spike’s already strong embrace turned vicelike. He let go enough to tilt her face to his, and his expression was a mix of raw adoration and apprehension. “Don’t wanna just move in together, love. This time, I want us to find a way…” He swallowed, then let go of her and dropped to one knee. “Buffy, I want to marry you. Know you need time to think –”

“Yes.” The word was hasty as she swooped down to straddle his knee. She cradled his jaw as she gave him a tender kiss. “Yes,” she said again.

He huffed out a little laugh as his face lit with joy, and Spike gave her one of his rare, genuine smiles of happiness. “Just like that,” he said in wonder.

“Yes. Just like that,” Buffy agreed. And she gave him another kiss, this one so hard he toppled onto the sidewalk, cradling her in his arms to save her from the impact. Like always.

And this time, Buffy noticed.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a canon-compliant crossover between BtVS and Veronica Mars with spoilers through the end of season 12 of Buffy and the end of season 4 of Veronica. The lead characters look similar and each tough blonde with hidden vulnerabilities has deeply loved a bad (or Big Bad) boy with a heart of gold. Here, in this improbable AU timeline, Veronica is about a month past the final season of her series, and Buffy is about a month past the end of the comics.
> 
> Many thanks to DarkVoid116 for beta reading and to Puppet_Cancer for a rigorous reading of the first draft that made the story much better.


End file.
